


Forgetting and hallucinating

by RiverAndHill



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drug Use, Historical Inaccuracy possible, I should be learning but no I sit in front of the computer and did this, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, the author getting emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverAndHill/pseuds/RiverAndHill
Summary: “Is it bad to be forgotten, Alexander? I lived, and then I died. This is just how a person’s life works.”
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Kudos: 9





	Forgetting and hallucinating

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [遗忘与幻象](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703174) by [RiverAndHill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverAndHill/pseuds/RiverAndHill). 



New York was unbearably hot in August, which only became worse during late night. Hamilton lay in bed, staring at the ceiling forever when he just couldn’t have the luck of falling asleep. Eliza took the kids with her to visit her parents. Their absence made the house so quiet that it was almost intimidating. Hamilton felt as if he were lying in an empty tomb. He forced himself to close his eyes, but then a thousand voices decided to rush into his mind, giving him a severe migraine. After a while, he just couldn’t take it anymore and pushed himself to a sitting position. Remaining still for a few minutes, he got out of bed and went to open the window.

The city was silent like death in darkness. Hamilton stared at the yellow moon, feeling like drowning in the endless darkness.

All of a sudden, an urge came to his heart, _what if he jumped…_

Then he would die. _What would it be like though, to die?_ Hamilton wondered and realized in horror that he had more desire than fear for the end of his life.

If Eliza ever found out…sweet, gentle Eliza, she would be so heartbroken. And if others learned about it, they would probably mock him and call him a lunatic.

Just like John Laurens, who must die when they were already winning the war.

 _John, my John._ He whispered the name quietly in sadness. He thought of the young man’s curly hair, flying in the wind, his smile fearless, freckled face vivid and energetic.

“For freedom, Alexander!” He was always like that, talking about freedom all the time, “Fuck slavery, freedom for all or no freedom at all.” He said that every time.

Missing him so much, Hamilton couldn’t help but cry. He didn’t want to endure this pain any more second, but he couldn’t bear to break his wife’s heart either.

He took out the opium from a locked cabinet hesitantly. Though some sense of sanity was telling him otherwise, he lit it up and took several sharp breaths in.

He smiled to the rising smoke without thinking. If someone was to walk in, they would be terrified by how crazy he was looking at the moment.

_Jefferson would call him servant of Satan again._

“Hammie, what are you doing?” A voice came from the back, which made he freeze on spot. The voice sounded familiar--- _who would call him bloody Hammie now:_

“John.” He turned around slowly, fearing any abrupt movement would shatter this already fragile illusion.

He saw Laurens leaning against the window frame, still wearing his uniform during the war. He didn’t dare to take a closer look because he was afraid he might see blood, which he could not handle at the moment. “You are back. Where have you been? They don’t talk about you. I am all alone and it’s just so hard. They have forgoten about you, those ungrateful…” Hamilton rambled, he thought he was going mad.

But Laurens sounded so calm:

“Is it bad to be forgotten, Alexander? I lived, and then I died. This is just how a person’s life works.”

Hamilton’s face was tear-stained and he didn’t realize it, “John, my dear. You fought for freedom. They should build monuments , write books for you, but…”

“---shh,” Laurens held a finger against his lips, “ my friend, I didn’t fight for people’s opinions, and I do not need their praise. I fought for an ideal, and I died for that ideal.”

 _And that very ideal is being stepped upon._ Hamilton screamed in his heart.

And maybe he even said it out aloud, for one moment Laurens appeared to be so sad. “Hammie, my darlin’” His laid a hand upon Hamilton’s shoulder with such tenderness. Hamilton fixed his eyes on the man’s fingers. “I must go now. I want to stay beside you, fight beside you so much. But I must go.” Hamilton panicked,”---no, no!” He tried to reach his hand to Laurens. His hand, with which he wrote a nation into being, with which he tried to keep his dearest friend.

Laurens left a very gentle kiss upon his forehead.

“Be brave, little lion. Fight for our dreams and don’t give up.”

The next day, Hamilton woke up next to the window, sore in every part of his body with a headache killing him. But he managed to stand up. He cleaned himself up, drank much coffee and headed into his study without hesitation.

_There’s a million things I haven’t done._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I translated my own work into English and I enjoyed the process. Let me know if there are any mistakes. Suggestions and discussions are mostly welcome!Comments would make my day!


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